Their reaction was simultaneous. He groaned. She trembled with pleasure.
Eager to explore him more fully, she divested him of his jeans and boxer briefs. Her hands moved across his abdomen. Down his thighs. Upward. Caught up in something too primal to fight, she cupped him again, with both hands, and then bent to kiss the hot, satiny length of him.
He groaned again, on the verge of losing control.
“I think it’s time you found a little trouble of your own,” he murmured, shifting her onto her back. The next thing she knew, he had taken complete control and whisked her panties off. Hands spreading her thighs wide, he found her with lips and mouth and hands. Exploring. Adoring. Sensation spiraled through her, unlike anything she had ever known. She gripped his shoulders, urging him upward. “Now,” she gasped. “Before I...”
“Patience...” he said roughly, sweeping past the last of her barriers. She arched again as he found the most sensitive part of her and brought her to the very edge. She quivered as his hands took on an even more intimate quest. She was close. Too close. Fisting her hands in his hair, she panted. “I want you inside me when...” Oh heavens! “...we...”
“You’ll have that, too,” he promised as a wave of sensation started deep inside her. With a growl of satisfaction, he pulled her toward him. And just that suddenly, her release came, her entire body melting in boneless pleasure.
He kissed her navel, still stroking the insides of her thighs. “Worth it?”
No fibbing about that when she was still shuddering with the aftershocks of a 6.0 quake. “Yes.” She gasped as he palmed her breasts and took her taut, aching nipple into her mouth. “Heck, yes...”
Grinning, he slid upward and once again captured her mouth with his. “I aim to please.”
No kidding, she thought, opening her mouth to the commanding pressure of his.
They kissed as he stretched out over top of her and brought his whole body into contact with hers. She could feel his erection pressing against her, hot and urgent. Desire welled inside her. “Now?” he rasped, pausing only long enough to roll on a condom, then kissing her in a way that was so wild and reckless it stole her heart.
“Now,” she gasped, knowing she would hold on to this moment forever.
Hands beneath her hips, he spread her thighs and slid inside, penetrating deep. She couldn’t get enough of the taste and feel of him, the confident and soulful way he merged his body with hers, the seductive, indomitable manner in which he possessed her.
To her delight, he seemed just as hungry for her. Intent on taking his time. Drawing out the unimaginable pleasure. He kissed her with the same insistent, tantalizing rhythm, letting her know how much she deserved, how much he wanted her to have. And then she was wrapping her legs around his waist, drawing him deeper, exploding with emotion, awash in sensation. With a low groan of pleasure, he followed. And together, at last, they found blissful release.
* * *
CHANCE ROLLED ONTO his back, taking Molly with him. A mixture of fierce physical satisfaction and raw emotion washed over him as he savored their closeness. He pressed his face into her hair, drawing in her scent, her softness, while Molly snuggled closer. Still wrapped in his arms, Molly tucked her face against his neck, her eyes closed, body still shuddering, her breath slowing.
Finally, she drew a deep breath, her body still pliant and molded tentatively against his. Lifting her head, she smiled and opened her eyes. “Well. Christmas sure came early,” she drawled.
He laughed, relieved that the regret he had half feared he would see was nowhere in sight. “It sure did,” he returned softly. He couldn’t wait for the next round.
The picture of sated elegance, Molly rose, wrapping the sheet around her midriff. She ran a hand through the mussed layers of her hair, then bent to gather up her clothes, giving him a fine view of her curvaceous backside in the process. “It’s too bad it can’t happen again.”
Whoa. He had definitely missed something here. “What do you mean?”
Looking as if she suddenly found his bedroom too intimate for comfort, she disappeared into the adjacent bath to dress. When she walked back out, she had a too-serene-to-be-believed expression on her face. “Once is a fling.” She sat down on the edge of the bed to put on her socks and boots. “Any more than that is complicated.” She paused to give him a meaningful glance as he got dressed, too. “And my life is complicated enough right now.”
He could see that she wanted him to argue with her.
Persuade her otherwise.
Only she wasn’t about to let him convince her. At least not in this moment. “You’re right,” he fibbed, putting on his boots, too.
She stood. “I am?” Skepticism rang in her sweetly pitched voice.
Aware two could play at this game—and that’s all it was, a game—he shrugged. “You’re moving to Dallas.” Unless I can work a holiday miracle.
She brushed by him in a drift of the lavender perfume she favored. “Exactly.”
He fell into step behind her. “It’s a phenomenally busy time of year.”
She shot him a look over her shoulder as she glided down the hall with womanly ease. “And the holidays are always ridiculously sentimental.”
Which makes Christmastime all the more perfect for finding someone, he thought. Aware she likely did not want to hear that, either, he watched her rummage through her shoulder bag. “And you have a son to care for.”
Molly plucked out a lip balm and smoothed some over her kiss-swollen lips. Finished, she pressed her lips together to set the soft gloss. Dropping it back into her purse, she brought out a brush and began running it through her soft auburn curls. Although she looked much neater now, she still glowed from the inside out. Anyone who knew her, seeing her, would know she had just made love.
With him.
And though Chance liked his privacy, he wouldn’t mind anyone knowing that Molly was spoken for.
“Not to mention,” Molly continued, oblivious to the serious nature of his thoughts, “a problem regarding Santa and a trio of bulls to solve.”
He studied the color in her high, sculpted cheeks. Had she ever looked more beautiful than she did at this moment? “I have that covered.”
“You think you do,” she said skeptically.
Grinning, he closed the distance between them. It was all he could do not to take her in his arms again. “I know I do,” he corrected her arrogantly.
Molly danced away. “We’ll see about that.”
Determined to make this the best Christmas she and Braden had ever had, he chuckled. “You bet we will.”
Molly took a calculator out of her bag. “In the meantime, we still have to reconcile the projected numbers on the Circle H renovation project with the actual costs thus far.”
Another thing they had in common. They both took the success of their businesses very seriously.
Chance nodded. “Let’s get to it.”
An hour and a few cups of coffee later, Molly sat back in her chair and looked at Chance with amazement. “We’ve not only managed to stay exactly on schedule, we’re fifteen percent under where we figured we would be in terms of projected labor costs.”
He shared her pride in a well-managed project. Something that only happened when everyone came together as a team. “We work well together.”
They did, indeed.
But apparently wary of reading too much into it, she said, “If this holds through the rest of the project, how would you feel about passing the extra revenue on to members of the crew in terms of an additional year-end bonus?”
Once again, the two of them were completely in synch. A miracle in itself, considering how much they had argued about literally everything a few short weeks before.
Chance smiled his approval. “I think it would make for a merry Christmas f
or everyone. And let’s face it—as diligently as our crews have worked, they deserve it.”
Molly smiled back and continued surveying him curiously. She moved her counter stool ninety degrees so she faced him. “Can I ask you something?”
He pivoted his seat, too. “Sure.”
“How come you’re still wearing two hats professionally?”
He nudged her knee with his. “You do the same thing.”
She wrinkled her nose and took another sip of coffee. “Interior design and general contracting sort of go hand in hand. Bucking bulls and remodeling do not.”
He reached for the thermal carafe. She covered the top of her mug, signaling she’d had enough caffeine, so he emptied what little was left into his. “Actually, they do. If I hadn’t had the skills, I wouldn’t have been able to remodel my ranch house or build the barns at anywhere near the cost I paid.”
Molly powered off her laptop. Seeming as reluctant to leave as he was to see her go, she raked her teeth over her lush lower lip. “How did you get into both businesses anyway?”
“Construction was my first job out of high school,” he replied, shutting down the accounting program on his computer.
Molly smiled at his screen saver—a photo of the retired Mistletoe being inducted into the Bucking Bull Hall of Fame. Their gazes met. “You didn’t go to college at all?”
“My parents made me apply, and I was accepted, but I knew it wasn’t going to work. I’m just not the kind of guy who’s happy sitting at a desk.”
Her eyes softened with compassion. “I’m guessing Lucille wasn’t happy about that.”
Talk about an understatement. “She and my dad both went through the roof. They also cut off my allowance and took away my car, thinking that would shake some sense into me.”
“It didn’t.”
“I got a construction job and learned the trade that way for a couple of years. When I tired of doing that in the Texas heat, I went to Wyoming for a while. Lived in the high country and got a job on a ranch as a hired hand.”
Her intense interest made it easy to confide in her. “That’s where I learned cattle management and the rodeo stock business. And started saving up for my own ranch. But I also knew—” he stood and carried his coffee mug to the sink “—that goal wasn’t going to be achieved in this lifetime unless I upped my income.”
She grinned and joined him at the dishwasher. “Sounds familiar.” She slid her cup in next to his.
They straightened, bumping shoulders in the process.
Aware all over again just how much he had enjoyed holding her in his arms, he let his gaze rove her face. “We do have ambitious natures in common.”
“Sorry. I derailed you.”
He tugged on an errant lock of her silky auburn hair. “You constantly derail me.” In a good way.
It was her turn to laugh. “Go on.”
He suspected he had better if they didn’t want to end up in bed again.
“I want to hear how you came to be so good at ranching and building.”
With effort, he turned his attention back to the conversation at hand. “Mostly by working both jobs simultaneously. I worked out a deal with my employer to help him with some home renovations, in addition to my usual duties as hired hand. I started saving every penny I could, took some business courses online and got my general contracting license.” He cleared his throat. “I was about to buy a place in Wyoming and open my own general contracting firm when my dad got sick. So I came back to Texas, and my parents gifted me with Bullhaven. Then I moved to Laramie, and the rest, as they say, is history.”
“Are you ever going to give up being a general contractor?”
“No. I like doing both. Plus, it gives me the cash flow to keep expanding my bucking-bull business without going into debt or taking on partners there.”
He paused, happy to see she didn’t think it odd—or unnecessary—to want to keep honing both skills. “What about you? Would you ever give up being your own general contractor on jobs just to concentrate on design?”
Her lips twisted thoughtfully. “In a perfect world, maybe. But I probably won’t because having my own crew ensures the quality I want on every project.”
“And control is important to you,” Chance guessed.
Molly nodded. Returning to the island, she packed up her computer and then grabbed her shoulder bag. “Very.”
* * *
“COWBOY CHANCE COMING? See me?” Braden asked hours later.
Seeing her son’s excitement, Molly couldn’t help but wonder if she was doing the right thing. He had no father in his life; Chance could easily fill the bill. If things were different...but they weren’t.
She was moving.
Chance was staying here.
Hence, it was best to keep them in the strictly friends category, even if Braden—and the most womanly part of her—clamored for more.
“Doorbell, Mommy!” her son shouted, racing toward the door. Molly expected her heart to give a little leap when she saw the man on the other side of the portal. It seemed to do that a lot these days regarding Chance. However, she didn’t expect the sexy cowboy to be carrying a rectangular folding table and three chairs. “Are we playing bridge?”
“Cute. Want to hold the door for me?”
“Whatcha doing, Cowboy Chance?” Braden planted both hands on his little hips.
Chance sidled past, being careful not to bump his cargo into anything or anyone. “I’m bringing in a present for you and your mommy.”
“I like presents!” Braden declared.
Chance winked. “I thought that might be the case, buddy.”
Unsure how this was related to their baby bull problem, Molly gave their guest a quizzical look.
“Patience,” Chance said, setting up the table in a corner of the living room, well away from the tree.
He’d said the same thing when making love to her earlier that day. She flushed at the memory, all her girlie parts tingling.
His gaze raked her lazily from head to toe. With a tip of his hat, he said, “I’ll be right back.”
Molly and Braden stood at the door, watching, while he went to his truck. He returned, this time with a piece of plywood covered in sturdy white fabric, with cotton balls glued along the edges, and a shopping bag.
“Now I’m really curious,” Molly admitted.
“Me, too!” Braden jumped up and down.
Carefully, Chance set the piece of cardboard onto the portable table. Molly wasn’t surprised to see it fit precisely. He reached into the bag and pulled out a small colorful building. “Guess what this is,” he asked Braden.
Molly read the letters on the front. “Santa’s Workshop?”
“Right!”
“And some elves.” Chance handed her son several figurines.
Braden set them down on the “snow”-covered board next to the building. Then ran off. “I get Rudolph and sleigh!”
The rest of the bag was empty.
Molly blinked in surprise. “No Santa?”
“Patience...”
Her body reacted. Again.
Flushing, she whispered, “You have to stop saying that.”
“How come?”
She admonished him with a lift of her brow. “You know why,” she breathed.
Mischief radiated from every fiber of his being.
Braden returned, the two toys Chance had already given him clutched in his hands. He climbed on the chair and set the sleigh and Rudolph next to Santa’s Workshop. “I like this!”
Chance patted her son on the shoulder. “I’m glad you do, buckaroo.”
Molly propped her hands on her hips while her son began to play with the four toys on the snow board. “I take it there is a method to this madness?�
��
Chance folded his arms across his chest. “There is. But for the next phase, it will require the two of you coming out to Bullhaven tomorrow morning.”
Being alone with him, even with a small chaperone along, always seemed like a dangerous proposition to her way too vulnerable heart. She cleared her throat and lifted her chin. “Really?”
The corners of his eyes crinkled. “Really,” he said just as firmly.
She stared into the hazel depths. “To do what?”
“See where and how real bulls live.”
But was that all, Molly wondered, studying the sparkling invitation in Chance’s smile, that he wanted her to see?
Chapter Six
Chance wasn’t sure Molly would take him up on his invitation, even before she gave him a halfhearted, “We’ll have to see how things go tomorrow morning... Braden can be pretty tired by the end of the week.”
He knew that they’d made love too soon. And because of that she was every bit as determined to keep him at arm’s length as he was to get her back in his arms. He also knew that she and her son were a package deal.
Convincing her that condition was more than okay with him, however, was going to be tough. Fortunately, he knew, even if Molly didn’t yet, that he was more than up to the task. And he was ready to prove to her they could have something more than dissension between them. She’d finally accepted his offer. Late Saturday morning, she drove up the lane.
He walked out to greet them. “Glad you both could make it.”
“Braden really wanted to come and see all of your bulls.” She emerged from the SUV and sent him a meaningful glance as she opened the rear passenger door. “And I got to thinking, maybe you’re right, that it’s a good idea for Braden to learn where and how real live bulls live.”
He was glad she understood at least this much of his plan. “That they’re only babies, pastured with their momma for a very short time.”
She nodded.
“Hey there, pardner,” Chance said, after Molly got Braden out of his safety seat. He held up his palm for a high five.
Grinning, Braden fit his small palm to Chance’s.
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